


Don't Forget To Breathe

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Altered States, Blindfolds, Erotic Hypnosis, Hypnotism, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sensory Deprivation, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: "Iwaizumi, this is Oikawa Tooru, ahypnotist," Hanamaki says as the stranger joins them by the table, eyes fixed on Iwaizumi.Iwaizumi gets a lesson on erotic hypnotism and has the best/worst night of his life.





	Don't Forget To Breathe

Iwaizumi isn't  _ really _ a big fan of clubs or partying, but that doesn't mean he minds going out with his friends for drinks once in awhile, despite their questionable taste in places to go and the fact that 'his friends' usually only includes Matsukawa and Hanamaki, a  _ couple, _ leaving him as the third wheel. This, of course, isn't as much of a deal as he sometimes makes it out to be, because they've been friends for enough years to make it work. Iwaizumi's only complaint is the fact that Matsukawa and Hanamaki both have terrible tastes in bars and clubs and the fact that they  _ never _ want to go to the same place twice.

The place today isn't that bad, just an underground one in the outskirts of a popular area, a little loud and pretty dark, but the atmosphere is fine and the people there all seem to be having fun.

They manage to snag a corner booth after buying too-expensive Asahi Super Drys and shuffling around for a few minutes until they see another group leaving the spot. Despite the fact that it's a bit darker than the rest of the place, the dim red lights not quite reaching them, they don't have to raise their voices more than necessary like they did when passing the dance floor.

After some time, they notice a commotion next to the bar, a bigger group of people talking excitedly over each other. The center of the group was shielded from the outside by all the people leaning in over each other to see properly, gasping in excitement over the mysterious subject of attention.

"You're not listening to me at all, are you?" Iwaizumi asks after telling Hanamaki and Matsukawa a not-particularly-interesting story from work when he realises that they're not even  _ looking _ at him, earning an absentminded hum from Matsukawa and a shrug from Hanamaki, automatic replies. Iwaizumi kicks out at the closest one - Matsukawa - and both of them look up at the same time.

"Sorry, what?" Hanamaki asks, reaching out for his beer but realizing that it's empty, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, leaning back against the backrest.

"Why don't you go check if it's that interesting?" he asks, looking up at the group of people  _ finally _ slowly dissipating, leaving just a small group of people, mostly women, talking excitedly in the bar.

"Good idea!" Hanamaki says, standing up. "Let's go see what it is," he says, looking to Matsukawa who gets up as well. Iwaizumi frowns, since he didn't expect that they were  _ actually _ going to go, but he doesn't join them, instead handing Matsukawa his own empty bottle of beer.

"Bring back a beer for me, then," he says, leaning back and making himself comfortable in the booth again, looking up at both of his friends as they move to leave the booth.

"Don't be boring!" Matsukawa says, even though he has already accepted Iwaizumi's beer, well aware that he isn't going to join, before both of them leave Iwaizumi and make their way to the bar.

Iwaizumi pulls out his phone, knowing that their curiosity won't be sated by just checking it out quickly, going through his emails.

 

He looks up a bit later, just in time to see Matsukawa accept four beers —  _ four? _ — from the bartender. Matsukawa grabs two of them, saying something over his shoulder to Hanamaki before turning to Iwaizumi, nodding at him to tell him he's on his way. Iwaizumi smiles back, putting down his phone as Matsukawa makes his way over, eyeing Hanamaki and the guy he's talking to — a brunet, as tall as Hanamaki and fashionably clad with styled hair, attractive looking even from afar — as both of them follow Matsukawa back to the booth, talking excitedly. The closer he gets, the more obvious it is that he's handsome, and Iwaizumi can only assume that  _ he _ had been the center of the commotion, the object of all the women's attention, the reason Hanamaki and Matsukawa are bringing him back. Matsukawa reaches the table first, sitting down and moving in next to Iwaizumi in the booth.

"You won't believe this," Matsukawa says, offering Iwaizumi his beer, an amused smile on his lips as he turns to look up at Hanamaki and the newcomer, now close enough for Iwaizumi to  _ actually _ look at him. Definitely handsome.

"What?" Iwaizumi asks Matsukawa, eyes focusing on the stranger in confusion as Hanamaki joins the booth on Matsukawa's side, eyes on Iwaizumi.

"Iwaizumi, this is Oikawa Tooru, a  _ hypnotist _ ," Hanamaki says excitedly, bumping his shoulder against Matsukawa's as he sits down, making them move further to the side in the booth for the stranger — Oikawa, the  _ hypnotist _ — to join them by the table.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at the guy who's smiling proudly at the introduction, eyes also on fixed on Iwaizumi as he sits down on the other side of the table, right across from him, obviously expecting some sort of reaction from him. "Interesting," Iwaizumi just says, taking a sip from his beer instead and Matsukawa snickers at his side, turning to look at Hanamaki.

"I told you he'd be a skeptic," Matsukawa says, nudging his boyfriend's elbow.

"You don't believe in hypnosis?" the guy asks, voice light and teasing, leaning in over the table, not at all looking offended, instead smiling at Iwaizumi as if he was expecting as much.

"I was never a fan of magic tricks," Iwaizumi explains, shrugging in indifference.

"It's not a magic trick," Oikawa says defensively, his voice even more shrill than before, frowning in dissatisfaction. "Didn't you hear people's reactions?"

Iwaizumi thinks back to all the girls shrieking and the gasps from before, nodding. "People like a good show, I guess," he says, really not interesting in feeding this man's ego, and this Oikawa guy obviously seems to enjoy the spotlight considering the court he was holding earlier and even now.

"You're not interested in trying?" Oikawa asks arrogantly, as if he's never had anyone not want to at least  _ try _ his stupid trick, unaffected by Iwaizumi's comment, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. That should be quite obvious by now.

"I don't believe in it," Iwaizumi replies, keeping his tone flat.

"Then there's no reason not to try!" Hanamaki says excitedly on Oikawa's side, an evil grin on his face. Iwaizumi grimaces at him, annoyed that his friend is supporting this dumb idea too. Oikawa, that bastard, smirks at Hanamaki's support, turning to Iwaizumi again, nodding. He sighs in resignation, shrugging.

"Hypnotize away," he then says, and both Hanamaki and Matsukawa are snickering by his side, _ of course they are, _ because this whole situation is ridiculous, and Oikawa gets up, walking to Iwaizumi's side of the table.

"Move in, I have to sit next to him," Oikawa explains to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, his voice still playful and teasing, and both of them move over instantly, making room for Iwaizumi to sit in the corner, Hanamaki ending up in the spot Oikawa had just vacated as Oikawa sits down in Iwaizumi's seat. "Are you ready?" he asks lightly, leaning into Iwaizumi's personal space with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Iwaizumi frowns, about to shake his head when he hears Matsukawa and Hanamaki's snickers from his side, making his insides boil in annoyance.

"Sure," he says instead, and Oikawa reaches his hand out, humming lightly and stretching his fingers, motioning for Iwaizumi to put his hand on top of it.

"He's going to think he's a monkey or some shit in five minutes," Hanamaki whispers next to them and Hanamaki snickers. Iwaizumi shoots them a shark look.

Oikawa moves closer so their knees are touching, reaching in with the hand he held out and grabbing Iwaizumi's hand, demanding his attention. Iwaizumi pulls back his hand in reflex, but Oikawa's grip is surprisingly powerful and he looks up in surprise as Oikawa smiles at him, Oikawa loosening his hold as Iwaizumi stops trying to pull back his hand. Oikawa repositions his grip around his wrist, holding his thumb and pointer finger against the underside as if taking his pulse, leaning in again.

"This is going to be fun, okay, Iwa-chan?"

"Yes—wait, what did you call me?" Iwaizumi asks, leaning back — away from him — and looking at Oikawa in surprise.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says lightly, well aware that Iwaizumi heard him the first time, tightening his grip as he pulls at Iwaizumi's wrist, turning his torso more towards him and reaching out for his other. "Give me your other hand and relax, Iwa-chan," he says. Iwaizumi stares at the guy for a few seconds in silence, wondering if this is some kind of prank or conspiracy against him, but he slowly holds out his other hand for Oikawa to grab, giving in.

He's  _ only _ doing this because he can feel Hanamaki and Matsukawa's excited eyes on him and because of the arrogant way Oikawa holds himself, as if he's  _ actually _ taking himself that seriously. Iwaizumi just wants to prove him wrong, to show that he won't get hypnotized, that Oikawa is just another con-artist with a handsome face and cheap tricks.

"I'm going to start now, okay?" Oikawa asks, lowering his voice and staring right into Iwaizumi's eyes, his entire demeanor shifting. Iwaizumi shifts in his seat but nods anyway. "Tell me, what is your name?" Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi can't help but be slightly surprised at the change, his voice much deeper, controlled and low.

"Iwaizumi Hajime," he replies, reminding himself that he has to play along with it all, and Oikawa nods slowly.

"Where are we?" Oikawa asks.

"A bar," Iwaizumi replies, looking down for a second when Oikawa's thumbs start tracing circles over his skin, but Oikawa freezes mid-motion, only continuing when Iwaizumi looks up at his face again.

"What day is it?" he asks, and Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, not feeling anything specific calmness, probably due to the uninteresting questions and the soft touch.

"Saturday," Iwaizumi replies, and Oikawa nods, smiling slightly before giving him more questions, about the interior of the cafe, Hanamaki and Matsukawa's names, his age and other small, simple things he can reply to instantly. Oikawa starts repeating questions, his fingers still tracing over Iwaizumi's skin, and the loud music slowly becomes background noise as Iwaizumi focuses more and more on the conversation, despite growing bored from the simple questions.

The questions become weirder, more rhetorical. "Are your hands warm? Is the seat comfortable? Relax your shoulders more, isn't that nice?"

Iwaizumi's answers shift from one-word replies to just a nod or a hum until he no longer even has to reply as Oikawa continues whispering questions to him in a low, steady voice. It  _ is _ nice, he notes. His entire body feels heavy, but light at the same time, like he's about to fall asleep but not tired. Oikawa's hand slides up his lower arm, resting on the inside of his elbow instead.

"Close your eyes and focus on my voice," Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi does as he's told — the first part, he was already completely tuned in to what Oikawa was saying — the added darkness calming him even further, making it easier for him to focus on his voice and nothing else. A part of Iwaizumi is vaguely aware that Hanamaki and Matsukawa are still there right next to him — that the entire bar is probably still full of people —. But right now, he only focuses on Oikawa, the steady tone of his voice, continuing to question and order Iwaizumi to focus on body parts, asking him if he's comfortable, the beat of the music nothing but a calming presence in the background, added with Oikawa's other hand tapping on his knee to the beat of the current track, slow and constant. Iwaizumi doesn't feel  _ hypnotized, _ per se, or like he's a monkey, but he has to admit that it's... _nice._

There's a sudden tap on his knee, out of tune with the music, and he looks up at Oikawa in shock, pulled completely out of the trance.  _ Wait. _ How long had it been? A minute? Ten minutes?

Matsukawa and Hanamaki are both still there next to him, smiling excitedly, so it can't have been that long. He turns to look at Oikawa, who's still smiling at him warmly, the arrogance from before completely gone, and Iwaizumi smiles back, still relaxed and comfortable, except now more aware of the things  _ around _ them than just Oikawa. Until Oikawa speaks again.

"Are you awake, Iwa-chan?" he asks, and Iwaizumi hums in reply, shrugging slightly, his shoulders heavy, relaxed. The air feels heavier, warm, like he's under a blanket, and the music and sounds around them are still muffled. "How do you feel?" Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi stretches his back, as if right after waking up from a good night's sleep. He  _ does _ feel like that, completely well rested, but relaxed.

"Good," he says, and Oikawa hums affirmatively, leaning in closer. Then he slides his fingers down from Iwaizumi's lower arm to his wrist, his other hand reaching up to Iwaizumi's other wrist also. And it feels _amazing._

Oikawa's fingers slide up his lower arms again, stopping at where his shirt is folded up on his elbow, and he looks Iwaizumi in the eyes again.

"How does this feel?" Oikawa asks, still sliding his fingertips over the skin of his lower arms, and the sensation goes through his  _ entire _ body, vibrating nicely, comfortably, like being kissed on the neck or the feeling of lips grazing over the shell of his ear accompanied by soft whispers, or nipples being teased, the kind of sensation that is sizzling and heated, rousing.

"Good," Iwaizumi manages to force out, even though it's a huge understatement. He still feels like he's just woken up, not sleepy, but not quite yet to get out of bed either, with no reason to either.  _ Nice, _ like he's completely warm and safe, and Oikawa's fingers slide over the thin skin at the crook of his elbows, making him tense slightly. Oikawa's fingers still, but then he continues grazing over the skin, sending tingles of heat up through his arms to his shoulders and chest. Oikawa slides his fingers down again, over Iwaizumi's upturned palms, and he can  _ feel _ himself getting turned on, like this is the sexiest foreplay he's ever been a part of. And he's only being touched on his arms, but it's still overwhelming.

"Do you like this?"

Iwaizumi hums in reply, looking down at Oikawa's hands, his fingers long and elegant, working over his skin. Iwaizumi can feel his own nipples growing harder, and he forces himself to not think of Oikawa touching  _ them _ directly. It's already too much as it is. Oikawa presses his fingers up under Iwaizumi's folded sleeves to his upper arms, digging them softly into his biceps, his face so close that Iwaizumi can  _ feel _ his breath, hot and humid against the lower half of his own face.

Then Oikawa pulls his hands away, leaning back. Iwaizumi frowns, biting his lip in disappointment at the loss, looking up at Oikawa again.

"Do you want more?" Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi nods instantly, hearing Oikawa chuckle in reply, but there's no ill intention behind it. Oikawa moves closer, the side of their thighs pressed against each other, and Oikawa leans his face in closer, his arm on the backrest behind Iwaizumi, his lips so close to Iwaizumi's ear that he can feel Oikawa's breath against it again, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up in need. 

"Close your eyes," Oikawa orders, nothing higher than a whisper, right into Iwaizumi's ear. He does as told instantly, and when Oikawa's hand touches his neck, he gasps. Delirious heat spreads through his entire body as Oikawa slides his hand down Iwaizumi's spine, leaning his head in and resting his forehead against Iwaizumi's temple, his skin as hot as Iwaizumi's entire body is feeling, whispering words in Iwaizumi's ear that he doesn't even register, the only thing he  _ does _ feel being the sound of Oikawa's voice, so deep and grounding. 

Iwaizumi only realises that he's  _ hard _ when the fabric of his trousers feel too restricting, pressing down against his erection. He squirms in the seat, grinding his ass into the bench, too turned on to be weirded out by the fact that it's not just his cock that seeks friction but something lower between his legs as well, and the fabric of his underwear holding down his cock is both restrictive and a welcoming relief.

"Don't forget to breathe," Oikawa whispers, and Iwaizumi gasps for air, realizing that he had held it in, the hairs on his arms standing up in reaction to Oikawa's other hand sliding over his inner arm again, ripples of electricity shooting down his spine when Oikawa presses his fingers against every single vertebrae, shockwaves running down his back to his abdomen.

"Ha- _ah,"_ he hisses, as Oikawa rubs his hand up Oikawa's back again to his shoulder blades, and Iwaizumi moans, feeling Oikawa's face lean in closer, his lips grazing over Iwaizumi's earlobe and—

Oikawa pulls back instantly, both hands disappearing, and Iwaizumi instantly stops squirming, pressing his ass into the seat, forcing his hips to stop twitching. Oikawa's face is flushed, eyes wide in surprise, and Iwaizumi breathes in, the heaviness in the air quickly disappearing, but Iwaizumi's raging boner isn't going anywhere and he's still  _ extremely _ hot and bothered, as if they were mid-sex, except Oikawa was barely touching him, his  _ hands _ sliding over Iwaizumi's clothed skin, and not even anywhere scandalous.

Oikawa forces his face back into the self-satisfied one from before, and the magic disappears instantly, the moment completely lost. Iwaizumi frowns, well aware that he probably looks like a mess, turning to look at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who are both staring at them interestedly.

"Please, do continue," Matsukawa says, his voice more fascinated than amused — for once — and Oikawa laughs lightly again. Iwaizumi would be angrier at this in other cases, more ashamed of his own state, but right now he's too turned on to care.

"Excuse me," He says instead, standing up quickly before he realises that he has to get past Oikawa to get out of the booth. It's too late now, though, so he presses himself up against the table, slightly dizzy after being pulled out of it so suddenly before pressing himself past Oikawa, his shins pressed against Oikawa's knees, and Oikawa stirs, making Iwaizumi lean back in surprise, almost falling down into Oikawa's lap before he steps up, sliding out of the booth successfully. But not before the back of his thighs and his ass grazes over Oikawa's lap or Oikawa's own hardened cock. Iwaizumi swallows, standing up straight as he moves towards the toilets hastily, happy that he checked out where they were before sitting down, ignoring Matsukawa and Hanamaki, leaving the booth before he hears what they're yelling after him.

When Iwaizumi enters the toilet, he instantly squints at the lights, so strong compared to the dim red of the main bar room, but good in relation to pulling him out of whatever Oikawa had just done to him. Iwaizumi goes for the nearest cubicle available, locking it behind him as he opens his pants, down his dampened boxers too and  _ finally _ pulling out his cock, fully erect and pink, precome dripping from the tip. He wraps his fingers around it, moaning quietly into his other hand, leaning up against the wall. He presses his forehead against the cold wall, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to get a hold of himself, of the situation. 

The entire toilet smells like piss and a tiny bit of soap, and a part of his mind is very aware of the fact that the toilet wall is probably extremely gross and that he shouldn't be touching it. He grips his cock tighter, still not actually moving his hand, pressing his thighs closer.  _ Don't forget to breathe. _ He breathes in deep, slides his fingers up the shaft, his exhale shaky. Fire pools inside his abdomen as he presses his thighs tighter again, and he tells himself he's  _ not _ going to finger himself in a fucking bar toilet. He doesn't even—he hasn't even  _ wanted _ that for ages. He’s never been pushed so close to an orgasm by simply being touched over his clothes either. He focuses on his cock again, throbbing and desperate, only getting a chance to pump at it once before there's a knock at the door of his cubicle and he's jerked out concentration in shock.

"What?" he hisses, well aware that the rest of the toilet is empty.

"Iwa-chan?" he recognises Oikawa's voice, slightly unsure and out of breath. He doesn't reply, instead just looking down at himself, biting his lower lip. "Don't touch yourself," Oikawa says, his voice deep again, an order. Even though Iwaizumi is no longer under— _ whatever _ Oikawa did to him, he stops instantly, letting go of his cock, his hand shaking.

“But I need—I need—” he tries, his voice ragged and desperate.

“Yes, I know. I’ll give it to you,” Oikawa replies, calm and, unlike Iwaizumi, completely under control.

“You— _fuck_ —please,” Iwaizumi says, gasping as he pulls his hand away completely and puts his boxers back up again, turning around towards the toilet door and Oikawa's voice as he buttons his pants closed again.

“Open the door?” Oikawa asks, voice gentle, and Iwaizumi reaches out to unlock it, letting Oikawa in. The door opens instantly, and Iwaizumi reaches to close the door when Oikawa steps in, but Oikawa grabs it, shaking his head.

"Haha, no, Iwa-chan, not here," he says, voice now a mix between the playful arrogance that made Iwaizumi's fist clench and the deep, calm and commanding one. Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi's wrist, and Iwaizumi stares at him in disbelief, shaking his head as Oikawa pulls him out of the cubicle.

"This place doesn't have a darkroom—" Iwaizumi begins, but Oikawa chuckles again, pulling him close.

"I live nearby," he says, confidently, and Iwaizumi finally understands what he means. Oikawa isn't planning on giving him any instant relief. He grits his teeth, his cock pressing against his boxers again, obviously not dissatisfied with that but still impatient.

"What about Matsukawa and Hanamaki?" he asks, as Oikawa tightens his arm around Iwaizumi's shoulder, pulling him out of the toilet into the darkness of the bar room again.

"I sent them home, don’t worry," Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi exhales in relief, ignoring the part of him that is embarrassed about the fact that his friends will  _ definitely _ know what he's about to do, probably planning on teasing him next time they meet. Oikawa pulls him towards the exit of the club, and Iwaizumi follows impatiently, hoping that by 'nearby' Oikawa means right across the street or something equally close.

 

Iwaizumi quickly finds out that 'nearby' is a very imprecise term, because Oikawa pulls over a cab, promising that it's 'only' five minutes away after seeing Iwaizumi's expression. Oikawa slides his fingers over Iwaizumi's wrist when they sit inside the cab, speaking calming words to him during the entire ride, both exciting and calming him down, his entire body buzzing.

When they exit the cab, Oikawa pulls him inside his apartment complex and this time both of them walk hastily, entering the apartment in long strides, both desperate for what's to come.

Oikawa’s place is surprisingly spacey for a place in this area, with wide windows and a modern interior, not like Iwaizumi expected a hypnotist’s home to be. There’s a chaiselong in the middle of the room, one that resembles the ones they lie down on in movies when talking to a therapist, but Iwaizumi can much easier imagine Oikawa flopping down on it dramatically, or—naked, pulling Iwaizumi with him, skin against skin. He turns to look up at Oikawa again, with new want in his eyes, and Oikawa looks back at him with mirrored hungry eyes. 

“My bedroom is this way,” he says, turning and walking towards another door, and Iwaizumi follows quickly, suddenly realising that they actually hadn’t discussed their intentions. Were they going to fuck? Was Oikawa just going to do…  _ whatever he did _ to Iwaizumi all over again, but this time finish? A mix of both?  _ If  _ they were going to fuck, who was going to fuck—

“Take off your clothes,” Oikawa orders when Iwaizumi enters the room, continuing to the furthest wall, leaning down to turn on his stereo system, smooth and calming music coming from the speakers moments later, the beat slow and steady, just like at the bar. Iwaizumi’s mouth goes dry.

“I said take off your clothes,” Oikawa says, voice deep and commanding again, raising an eyebrow at Iwaizumi when he sees that he still hasn’t complied. This time, Iwaizumi does start unbuttoning his shirt, watching Oikawa as he goes around his bed again, grabbing something Iwaizumi can’t see in a drawer, lifting up the leather cuffs for Iwaizumi to see, just as Iwaizumi pulls off his shirt. “How do you feel about being tied up?” Oikawa asks, eyes gleaming excitedly at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to his now bare chest. 

“I’m—uh, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi says, before opening his belt and trousers, pushing them down over his knees and stepping out of them. Oikawa still hasn’t even started undressing.

“Good, because you’ll need it for the full experience,” Oikawa says mysteriously, turning around without explaining further, crawling in over his bed and hooking the cuffs to each upper corner of the bed’s headboards. He turns around, looking down Iwaizumi with a grin. “Socks off too, you can keep the boxers on for a little longer,” he says lightly, clasping his hands together after moving off of the bed, making room for Iwaizumi. “Lie down,” he orders, and this time Iwaizumi does comply.

When he lies down in the right spot after Oikawa has positioned him a bit further into the middle, Oikawa crawls in over him, grabbing his wrists and tying them to the bed. Iwaizumi is beginning to think that this isn’t the smartest idea he’s ever had. They haven’t even kissed. Oikawa could be a murderer.

“Are you getting cold feet?” Oikawa asks, looking down at him with a surprisingly genuine smile, as if  _ actually _ worrying if Iwaizumi is chickening out, and Iwaizumi shakes his head instantly, almost more offended than he’d be if Oikawa was simply making fun of him.

“I was just wondering, have you—have you made others come from just hypnosis before?” he asks, looking up at Oikawa again as Oikawa ties up his other arm, hoping that Oikawa will offer at least some information on what’s about to go down. Oikawa looks down at him, that annoying smirk back on his lips.

“Look at me, I’ve made people come from just being near them,” he says lightly, winking down at Iwaizumi before standing up from the bed, disappearing from Iwaizumi’s sight. Iwaizumi pulls slightly at the restraints to see how well they hold, groaning in exasperation at Oikawa’s attempt at humor. Or at least he hoped he was joking. The guy was already arrogant beyond belief.

“Every time you open your mouth, I can feel my dick go limp,” Iwaizumi says, his voice surprisingly steady considering the fact that he’s a horrible liar. Oikawa returns with a long piece of black silk, raising it in front of Iwaizumi’s eyes, smiling down at him.

“I promise that won’t be the case when I’m done with you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa  _ purrs _ into his ear, voice velvety and deep again as he presses the blindfold over Iwaizumi’s eyes, tying it at the back. Iwaizumi breathes in, trying to calm himself, aware that Oikawa’s face is still close, the weight of his body still pulling down the mattress at his side, the heat emitting from his body still near. 

Suddenly, a pair of lips are pressed against Iwaizumi’s, and he reels back in reflex, pushing the back of his head into the pillow. Oikawa chuckles  _ right in front of him _ before leaning down, kissing him again. This time Iwaizumi doesn’t lean away — not that he  _ can _ lean any further — and Oikawa opens his mouth slightly, sliding his tongue over Iwaizumi’s lips. Iwaizumi opens his mouth to let him in just as Oikawa leans back up again with a chuckle.

“You’re much more manageable than I thought,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi’s muscles tighten in shock when he feels fingers slide over his thigh. He pulls at the restraints, frowning.

“I’m beginning to realise my mistake, yeah,” he says back, and Oikawa laughs lightly, the fingers sliding over his thigh disappearing before he feels a smack at the inside, just hard enough to sting at the sensitive skin.

“Here’s how it’s going to happen, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, his voice serious now. He presses his fingers softly against the skin of Iwaizumi’s thigh and Iwaizumi counts three intakes of breath before he speaks up again. “I’m going to ask you for a colour, green is continue, yellow is slow down, and red is stop,” Oikawa explains, pulling his hand away, moving so the weight shifts slightly underneath him on the mattress.

“What exactly are you going to do to me?” Iwaizumi asks,  _ really _ beginning to regret letting Oikawa tie him up before they put up some guidelines.

“Calm down,” Oikawa says, pressing his hand over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and Iwaizumi realises how tense he has gotten. “It’s just the hypnosis, nothing else. It’s an altered state of mind nevertheless, and I want to be sure that you’re enjoying it under the whole thing, okay?” 

Iwaizumi swallows. “I can say stop if I need,” he says anyway.

“I don’t care. If I ask for a colour, you give me one, even if it’s green. Understood?” 

Iwaizumi clenches his fists, definitely not turned on by how demanding Oikawa is, definitely not lying to himself. He isn’t—he’s not into that. He likes to be in control. He presses his thighs together, suddenly remembering that he’s still the only one of them who’s almost completely naked.

“Yes,” he says anyway.

“Good. I’ll give you what I promised now, okay Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks, his tone  _ instantly _ back to that syrupy sweet one, his hand resting on Iwaizumi’s knee again. Iwaizumi would be more annoyed at this if he wasn’t suddenly very aware of the fact that Oikawa was going to do  _ that _ to him again.

“Yes,” he breathes out, finally letting himself relax, trying to prepare himself better this time for what’s to come.

This time, Oikawa goes over the first questions in less time, asking Iwaizumi where they are, what he’s doing, who he’s with.  _ You. Just you,  _ Iwaizumi has to reply, feeling Oikawa’s hand slide up his upper arm. Oikawa hums approvingly, resting his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Can you feel your shoulders relax?” Iwaizumi nods as they sink down, tension he didn’t knew was building up being released as Oikawa slides his hands over them again, down to his chest, telling him to breathe deeply, all the way down to his stomach. Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa’s hands rest on his chest as it rises and falls. Oikawa repeats some of the questions from before, asking him how every single body part from his feet to the top of his head feels, telling him to relax every limb until his entire body is buzzing with a sluggish yearning for Oikawa’s touch. The music has been playing for a while now, and Iwaizumi hasn’t even noticed the track change, unable to focus on anything but Oikawa’s voice, whispering rhetorical questions or quiet commands, sometimes close enough to his ear that Iwaizumi can feel his breath against it.

Once again, Iwaizumi doesn’t realise that Oikawa is tapping at his leg to the rhythm until he stops doing it and it’s suddenly  _ very _ obvious.

“Are you ready?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi is suddenly aware that time has passed. How much exactly he isn’t sure. He tries to open his eyes, but under the blindfold everything is black. He nods.

Oikawa slides his hand down Iwaizumi’s arm again, from his wrist to the crook of his elbow, and this time the feeling is even more intense, the sensation spreading to his entire body, slow and warm, and Iwaizumi wants  _ more. _ Oikawa’s hand disappears from his arm, only to reappear on his chest, his fingertips barely grazing over Iwaizumi’s nipple, but without his vision, without anything else than the lulling beat of the music to grab his attention, all he can focus on is Oikawa’s touch, spreading pleasure in his chest.

Oikawa’s lips mouth against his other nipple and Iwaizumi hitches for his breath, back arching into the touch as Oikawa sucks at the nipple, sending waves of arousal through his entire body. Oikawa’s other hand slides up his thigh, and Iwaizumi jerks his hips, pressing down against i. But the hand stops before Oikawa reaches his crotch, resting right underneath the hem of his boxers as his fingers ghost teasingly over the skin there, sending tingles of electricity through Iwaizumi’s body, pooling low in his abdomen, making him desperate for _more._

“Please,” Iwaizumi whispers hoarsely, and Oikawa’s lips disappear from his chest, the shift of weight on the mattress revealing to Iwaizumi that Oikawa is leaning in further. 

“What do you want, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks, voice low and sultry, and Iwaizumi bites his lip so hard it goes numb, a low whine escaping his throat.

“Touch me,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed even though it’s hidden over the mask. Oikawa presses his lips against his jawline before sliding down, mouthing at his neck as his fingers run over the skin of Iwaizumi’s shoulder, up to his throat, each stroke feeling like he’s being touched  _ everywhere, _ his cock twitching between his legs as Oikawa breathes out, hot against his neck, dampening his skin.

Iwaizumi raises his hips up into the air, desperate for friction, and just the fabric of his boxers is  _ amazing, _ every single touch and sensation on his body feeling a hundred times stronger with his other senses muffled and Oikawa’s touch and voice the only thing he can focus on.

“When you think about it,” Oikawa whispers, his lips grazing over the shell of Iwaizumi’s ear, sending a full body shiver through his entire body, “it really is a powerful feeling, isn’t it?” he slides his fingers down Iwaizumi’s chest again, his nose sliding over Iwaizumi’s throat as he looks down Iwaizumi’s body again, his own body lying up against Iwaizumi’s side, his knees pressed against the side of Iwaizumi’s thigh.

Iwaizumi can feel his heart beating through his chest, his nipples hard under Oikawa’s fingertips as Oikawa circles his fingers over them once, twice, before moving down his torso again, chuckling into his ear again.

“More,” Iwaizumi gasps, pressing his ass down against the mattress, rutting into thin air.

“What colour?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi grits his teeth.

“Green,” he hisses, too fast, desperate for Oikawa to continue as soon as possible.

“You’re doing so well, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purrs into his ear again, his other hand reaching up, carding through Iwaizumi’s hair, his fingers massaging Iwaizumi’s scalp. Iwaizumi bites his lip again, trying to keep the guttural sounds from escaping his mouth, well aware that he’s sounding like he’s being choked or something, completely and utterly overwhelmed just by Oikawa’s fingers touching his skin.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Oikawa says, his middle finger ghosting over his abdomen, right over the elastic band of Iwaizumi’s boxers. Iwaizumi gasps, his hips jerking upwards, his cock throbbing, ready —  _ desperate _ — for Oikawa to touch it, pull him out of his misery, let him come. Oikawa chuckles, his hand disappearing again, and Iwaizumi groans, shaking his head. He can hear Oikawa shift on the bed, fabric being pulled off, clothes shedded. He hopes he’s right, that Oikawa is undressing too, but right now he’s more intent on making Oikawa touch him again. “Patience,” Oikawa says, voice still low and calm, his hand suddenly between Iwaizumi’s legs, pressing against his thigh right under the boxers again, Iwaizumi’s skin  _ burning _ with the contact. Iwaizumi presses down, spreading his leg in an attempt at grinding against Oikawa’s hand, but Oikawa follows the action, keeping just out of reach.

“Please,” Iwaizumi begs again, jolts of electricity spiking right up into his cock from Oikawa’s hand on his skin, and Iwaizumi can’t keep his hips from twitching for the life of him, so he gasps, remembering what Oikawa said about continuing to breathe. “Please,” he tries again, but instead of complying, Oikawa’s hand disappears as Oikawa’s body moves closer, his lips pressing against Iwaizumi’s throat again, his chest against Iwaizumi’s side — he was right, Oikawa  _ did _ take off his shirt — as he grinds his own erection against Iwaizumi’s thigh, throwing his his knee over Iwaizumi’s leg. Iwaizumi  _ whimpers, _ the shaky sounds escaping even through his gritted teeth.

“Let go,” Oikawa orders, his hand pressing over Iwaizumi’s chest again, his fingers teasing at his nipple again. “Come for me,” he says, voice rough, and Iwaizumi does, the spring coiling tightly in his crotch before releasing as warm come wets his boxers, his  _ boxers, _ because Oikawa hasn’t even  _ touched _ his fucking dick, and he’s still coming in his underwear like he’s a teenager all over again, chest heaving, gasping for air. Oikawa pulls away instantly, the weight disappearing from the mattress, and Iwaizumi presses his knees together, hips still writhing uncomfortably as the dizziness slowly dissipates, taken over by a feeling of sluggishness again, but the beat of the music keeps him from actually going unconscious as he listens intently for Oikawa, trying to guess his whereabouts.

He hears Oikawa’s footsteps, heavy clothes dropping to the floor and a drawer being opened, something being pulled out of it before the drawer closes again. Then the mattress dents under Oikawa’s weight again as he returns, humming along with the music.

“Iwa-chan, I’m going to have my way with you now, okay?” he asks, voice back to the light and breezy tone he had used before again. Iwaizumi breathes in through his nose, trying to make sense of the words.

“What?” he croaks, his voice shaky. “What was it that you just—”

“Foreplay,” Oikawa hums in reply, chuckling as he moves over, the mattress sinking under him just as Iwaizumi realises where he’s moved to. Between Iwaizumi’s legs.

“What are you—” he begins, just as Oikawa pulls down his boxers, freeing his softening cock, the cold air unwelcome and the dampness of the fabric uncomfortable when it slides over his thighs. Iwaizumi raises his legs to help Oikawa pull them off completely, grunting in annoyance.

The mattress shifts again as Oikawa leans to the side, grabbing something, and Iwaizumi hears a click as he opens something — a bottle, lube? — before he hears a squirt, Oikawa’s other hand reaching down to grab his thigh again. Iwaizumi gasps, his touch somehow  _ still _ sending tiny jolts of electricity through him, except more soothing than before, less vehement. Iwaizumi jolts when Oikawa’s other hand — slick and  _ cold _ with lube — slides between his legs, grazing the inner side of his thigh before Oikawa’s finger slides down over the sensitive line of skin right between his ballsack and asshole. Iwaizumi recoils, struggling to stay still as Oikawa’s finger slid down, teasing over his entrance before drawing a perfect circle around it, spreading the lube. 

“Spread your legs more,” Oikawa commands, voice gentle, and Iwaizumi complies before even registering the words, giving him more space just as Oikawa presses in the first digit.

The feeling is  _ way  _ more intense than he remembers, but he’s still too affected to be sure if it’s because of the hypnosis or just because he isn’t used to it. Oikawa guides him through it again, just as he did with the hypnosis before, but this time it’s different, because Oikawa is  _ actually _ touching him in the kind of way you’re supposed to get turned on from, and the effect is much stronger.

“How does this feel?” Oikawa murmurs, curling his finger upwards inside Iwaizumi, sliding it over his prostate. Iwaizumi gasps, back arching again as he presses his ass down into the mattress, forcing his hips as still as possible as Oikawa rubs over it before pressing his finger in deeper, pulling it out only to thrust it in again, nudging over the prostate again. “You’re so tight, Iwa-chan, do you not do this very often?” Oikawa asks after the second finger is in as he stretches him out, agonizingly slow.

Iwaizumi groans, shaking his head. “No,” he replies to Oikawa’s questions, several moments later, unsure if Oikawa even know it’s a reply, but Oikawa hums, pulling out slightly to press his fingers up against Iwaizumi’s prostate again, making his hips jerk upwards. Iwaizumi hisses.

“I’m honoured then,” Oikawa says, his voice too saccharine sweet for Iwaizumi to take him seriously.

“Do  _ you _ do this often?” he asks, his voice definitely not breaking at the last syllable when Oikawa nudges his fingers over the prostate again before pushing his fingers in deeper. Oikawa chuckles before pulling them out, this time completely, leaving Iwaizumi feeling empty and yearning for his touch again. 

“No, it’s been a while,” Oikawa hums thoughtfully, as if he’s trying to remember the last time he brought someone home. Iwaizumi doesn’t like that he can’t see him, unsure if he should trust him, unsure if he should even care. “But I couldn’t say no to you,” Oikawa adds with another chuckle, and Iwaizumi hears a small package rip — foil? a condom? — as Oikawa shifts again, leaning back. “I’m putting the condom on now, are you ready?” he asks, and Iwaizumi’s mouth goes dry as he realises what’s about to happen, but he nods slowly, waiting impatiently for Oikawa to lean in and touch him again, his whole body vibrating in excitement. He hears the click as Oikawa opens the lube again and bites his lip in anticipation as Oikawa prepares himself.

Oikawa leans in over him, an arm on each side as he situates himself between Iwaizumi’s legs, his lips pressing against Iwaizumi’s the moment their hips grind together as well. Iwaizumi squirms, lifting his own ass from the mattress, pressing up against Oikawa, desperate for the friction. Then he feels Oikawa move again, his cock pressing against Iwaizumi’s entrance as he pulls back from the kiss, bowing his head down to the side, their cheeks touching as he whispers in Iwaizumi’s ear. “Ready?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t get a chance to reply, the only reaction he has time for being the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, the shiver going through his spine, just as Oikawa pushes inside.

Iwaizumi gasps, loudly, as the head presses past the rim, stretching him open and leaving him feeling  _ raw, _ so raw, the slickness between them making it easier for Oikawa to slide inside until he’s buried inside him completely. 

“Fuck—holy fuck, fuck,  _ fuck," _ Iwaizumi hisses, his back arching again as he throws his head back, mouth open wide. Oikawa is holding still on top of him, waiting for him to get used to the sensation, but he reaches up and cards his hand through Iwaizumi’s hair in an attempt at comforting him.

“Sorry, it may feel overwhelming when you’re in this state,” he says, and he’s not wrong.  _ Everything _ is overwhelming, from Oikawa’s face being so close to him, his breath ghosting over Iwaizumi’s lips, his voice quiet and controlled despite the yearning Iwaizumi can hear in his voice, his cock filling Iwaizumi up in a way he’s never experienced, to the way his hipbones are pressing in against Iwaizumi’s thighs, forcing him to spread his leg further to make room.

“I’m fine,” Iwaizumi says after a while, voice still breathless, realising that Oikawa is waiting for him to get used to it. Iwaizumi is pretty sure this isn’t the kind of sensation you can just get used to.

Oikawa leans in to kiss him again, his hand (?) disappearing from Iwaizumi’s hair so he can hook his arm under Iwaizumi’s shoulder instead, his hand reaching up to caress jawline and throat instead, touch feather-light and intense, but less overwhelming than before now that there’s another, more pressing sensation between his legs, just as Oikawa pulls out slightly, thrusting into him again.

Oikawa builds up a rhythm quickly, fucking into him as Iwaizumi shakes underneath him, the feeling so overwhelming that it’s bordering on painful, except it’s  _ not _ and he wants  _ more. _ The pleasure vibrates through his entire body, his own movement still restricted with the restraints, the deprivation of his other senses causing an overload on his skin everywhere Oikawa touches him, outside and inside. Oikawa’s thrust are fast and strong, and he’s no longer whispering calming words into Iwaizumi’s ear, the only thing other than the music and the sound of skin slapping against skin, Oikawa pushing inside him, being his shallow grunts.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Iwaizumi manages to say, surprised at how controlled his own voice sounds, and Oikawa freezes for a second mid-thrust before gasping for air when Iwaizumi tightens around him intentionally, getting the reaction he hoped for. Oikawa growls, pounding into him with even more fervor than before, reaching down to Iwaizumi’s own cock — hard again, but still too sensitive from before — sliding his already lube-slick fingers over it before grabbing it, pumping it from the shaft to the tip, and Iwaizumi turns his face to the side, bowing it down in an attempt at pressing his mouth against his shoulder to muffle the whimpers that can’t help but escape as Oikawa thrusts into him and touches him at the same time, pushing him towards an orgasm too quickly, especially considering the fact that he already came earlier.

Oikawa’s talents don’t just lie in hypnosis, because even when he’s just using one hand and he’s distracted with, you know, fucking Iwaizumi senseless, he slides his thumb up, teasing at the slit of Iwaizumi’s cock, pressing his legs open as he pushes Iwaizumi’s ass up by digging his knees underneath Iwaizumi’s leg, sinking into him deeper from a different angle.

Iwaizumi comes. White dots enter his vision for a few seconds as waves of pleasure ripples through him, his entire body jerking as time stills, Oikawa continuing to fuck into him until his body tenses and he tightens around Oikawa, convulsing and making it feel like Oikawa’s cock is only just pressing inside him again,stretching him out, and Oikawa cries out, leaning down to bite at his shoulder in the heat of the moment, and Iwaizumi gasps at the sensation, his body somehow  _ still _ too fucking sensitive under every single touch as Oikawa comes, pulsing inside him, his cock throbbing even with the condom keeping the come in place. Oikawa pulls out carefully after regaining his breath, too fucking put together for Iwaizumi’s tastes.

“What colour?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi raises his head slightly as if to look up even though he’s still blindfolded, his head heavier than usual. He can hear Oikawa rummage around, leaving the bed and walking up on the side of it, probably taking off his condom. 

“W-what?” he asks, barely able to keep his head up, his body jolting involuntarily when Oikawa presses a cold wet wipe over his stomach, trying to clean up the mess Iwaizumi was too far gone to even notice.

“What colour?” Oikawa asks again, when he pulls back the wipe, and Iwaizumi tries to shrug, his arms still tied up and feeling sort of sore from lying in that position by now.

“Green—aren’t we—” Oikawa crawls into the bed again, this time from the side, and when he presses his lips against Iwaizumi’s nipple again, Iwaizumi’s entire body arching like a drawn bow, “— _Yellow,"_ he hisses, and Oikawa sits up again, resting a hand on Iwaizumi’s waist, his thumb sliding gently over Iwaizumi’s stomach in an attempt to calm him down.

“Don’t forget to—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to breathe,” Iwaizumi says between gasps, pulling at the restraints. They’re not even close to giving in. “And please tell me you’re not going to continue,” he adds, voice growing shaky again when Oikawa’s hand slides up to his chest slowly.

“What colour?” Oikawa asks instead of replying, and Iwaizumi groans, both in pleasure and exasperation. His entire body is still elated, Oikawa’s touch still burning, and with the oversensitivity from his  _ second orgasm, _ it’s all just too much. 

“Green,” some masochistic part of him forces out of his mouth anyway. Oikawa’s other hand is on his thigh again, his fingertips drumming against it along with the beat.

“You’ve done so well, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa praises him, the drumming calming Iwaizumi down slightly as Oikawa’s other hand slides up his chest again, to the dip between his collarbones. “I know the feeling is intense, but—it’s so good too, isn’t it?”

Iwaizumi blinks, eyes wet but no tears falling because of the blindfold, and he nods, pressing his heels into the mattress in an attempt at keeping his hips from writhing. 

“Can you feel how the sensations are getting stronger again?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi tenses, shaking his head, not in disagreement but in desperation.

“No,” he whispers, not in disagreement, but because he isn't ready yet, despite feeling all the heat directing to one part in his body, his erection already growing hard again, twitching between his legs. He shakes his head again.

“It’s getting stronger, right?” Oikawa asks, pulling his hand away from Iwaizumi’s chest and moving over, situating himself between Iwaizumi’s legs without stopping his fingers from tapping against Iwaizumi’s thigh along with the beat. Iwaizumi squirms, feeling vulnerable enough as it is, not comfortable with Oikawa being so close to his cock again. “It’s like you can’t hold back, isn’t it?” Oikawa asks, leaning down between Iwaizumi’s legs, his voice betraying where he is, and Iwaizumi squirms again, jerking his hips in the direction of Oikawa’s face, as if expecting him to—

Oikawa grabs his hips with both hands, continuing to tap to the rhythm with the middle- and pointer finger of the same hand, now against Iwaizumi’s side, without missing more than a few beats. Oikawa leans down, sliding his tongue over the slit of Iwaizumi’s cock, and Iwaizumi writhes again, except this time Oikawa’s firm grip holds his hips down. 

“Please,” Iwaizumi  _ croaks, _ his voice broken, sounding like he’s crying, and holy shit, he  _ is _ crying, the silken fabric damp against his eyes. Oikawa slides his tongue down the underside of his length, all the way down to his balls before he slides his hands down, spreading Iwaizumi’s thighs open again — bad move. Iwaizumi’s hips jerk upwards and Oikawa has to reach up to hold him down again, his finger digging into the skin right under his hipbones. 

“Let go,” Oikawa orders as he pulls his mouth away, before pressing a wet kiss to the tip of Iwaizumi’s cock. His entire body is shaking, hips barely held still by Oikawa’s iron-grip, and Oikawa’s fingers tap against his side again, except this time faster than the beat. “Let go, Iwa-chan, come for me,” he says before taking Iwaizumi’s cock into his mouth, barely more than the head, sucking at it, and Iwaizumi does. He cries out, back arching, jerking into Oikawa’s mouth despite his hands attempting to hold him down, and he feels Oikawa’s teeth graze the underside of his shaft for a second, unprepared, but Oikawa presses him down against the mattress again before letting go with one hand, only to grab the shaft of his cock, pumping him through the orgasm as he creates suction by hollowing his cheeks. A guttural sound escapes Iwaizumi’s throat, something that sounds awfully close to a sob, and he shakes his head, hips still shaking as Oikawa sucks him dry before pulling off, moving off of the bed only to sit down at Iwaizumi’s side a few seconds after, loosening the blindfold.

“Close your eyes,” he says, as Iwaizumi is still fighting for air, and Iwaizumi does as told, squeezing them shut when Oikawa pulls off the blindfold completely, opening them slightly as he gets used to the light again. He exhales deeply, looking up at Oikawa, who somehow  _ still _ looks put-together, a confident smirk on his lips. “How was that?” he asks, and Iwaizumi opens his mouth, only to realise that no words are coming to him.

“Fuck,” he says, eloquently, and Oikawa’s smirk grows wider. He looks down at himself, his softening cock, pink and flushed, and his legs still shaking. He’s a fucking mess.

“One last round?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi’s head whips up to his face instantly, eyes widening in shock.

“No!” he says, not even trying to hide the sincerity. Oikawa slides his fingers down to Iwaizumi’s chest, the tingling feeling returning to him. Iwaizumi shakes his head vehemently, pulling at the restraints again. “No more, please,” he begs, hips squirming again as he tries to lean away from Oikawa’s touch, still shaking his head.

“Mhm, why should I listen to you?” Oikawa asks, looking up at him with the same gleam in his eyes as before he tried hypnotising Iwaizumi in the first place, challenge in his eyes. 

“I’ll—anything—anything you want,” Iwaizumi asks, and Oikawa’s eyes widen, but his hand stops moving, disappearing from Iwaizumi’s chest shortly after.

“What colour?” he asks, and Iwaizumi exhales in relief, closing his eyes.

“Red,” he admits, and Oikawa hums, pulling his hand back completely. Then he reaches up above Iwaizumi’s head, releasing one of his hands first, letting Iwaizumi stretch it as he reaches to open the next one.

“Close your eyes, then,” he says, and Iwaizumi looks up at him warily, massaging his own wrists, relieved that they’re barely sore at all. “Trust me,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi can’t help but squint at him for a second before he complies. 

“I’m about to fall asleep,” he mumbles, and Oikawa chuckles, pressing a hand against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He tenses up for a second, relaxing when Oikawa starts tapping his hand to the beat again.

“Just relax,” Oikawa says, humming quietly, his voice deep and calming again. “Listen to my voice…”

Iwaizumi slides into comfortable darkness, sluggishness taking over, and… 

Oikawa taps his shoulder, jostling him awake as gently as possible. He opens his eyes, just barely, looking up at Oikawa, who’s still sitting next to him on the bed, eyes hooded — tired — as well. Iwaizumi moves over slightly, making room for him. He still feels sluggish —  _ exhausted,  _ actually — but everything is less overwhelming, like more like he has control over himself again. He breathes in, stretching his body, his arms and legs sore but grateful. Oikawa strokes his shoulder, and while it’s nice, it’s not  _ nice _ like before, just. Nice. Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a wobbly smile, stretching his arm out and patting on the bed next to him, motioning for Oikawa to join. Oikawa looks unsure for a second but then joins, lying down next to him, looking at Iwaizumi with uncertainty.

“Do you need help falling asleep?” he asks, reaching over to grab Iwaizumi’s wrist. “Because I can help if you—” 

“No need,” Iwaizumi cuts him off, pulling him in instead, pressing a kiss thoughtlessly to the top of Oikawa’s head. Oikawa nuzzles into his neck, pressing his nose against the crook of his neck and shoulder, and Iwaizumi fights back a yawn. “Night,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper, eyes sliding shut.

“Goodnight, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hums back, voice low, but close enough to Iwaizumi’s ear for him to hear it anyway, arm reaching up to Iwaizumi’s chest as he pulls him closer. Iwaizumi falls asleep easily, no need for hypnotic help. 

 

When Iwaizumi wakes up, he’s covered in a mix of sweat, a too-hot blanket and a too-heavy, too warm body, draped across his body. He reaches up to loosen the grip around his waist, pushing Oikawa away slightly, only to look down at the other man’s still sleeping face, unable to keep from smiling. Oikawa is handsome, no doubt, but when he’s sleeping he looks younger, more innocent and pure, and Iwaizumi leans in to press a kiss against his forehead in reflex, pushing away the messy bangs covering his eyes. His entire body is still sore, but somehow he feels energetic and excited, and the morning wood pressed against his leg only helps furthering his mood in that direction, thoughts of the night before filling his mind as he untangles himself from Oikawa’s octopus-like limbs, crawling further to the edge of the bed. He sits up completely, looking down at Oikawa before reaching down, poking his cheek. 

“I know you’re awake,” he says, listening to Oikawa’s uneven breath, and Oikawa squints up at him, sticking out his tongue.

“You’re more perceptive than I thought,” he says, and Iwaizumi huffs, rolling his eyes at him before Oikawa pushes off the blanket, baring his naked body and his erection. He looks down at it, as if only just realising that he’s hard, before looking up at Iwaizumi again, forcing out a laughter. “Wanna take care of this?” he asks, looking down himself again, forcing up that annoyingly confident smirk, and Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, shifting over in the bed as Oikawa continues speaking. “I mean, since I was the one doing—” he begins to argue, as if he actually needs to defend his request, but Iwaizumi cuts him off with a wave.

“Sure,” he says casually, grabbing Oikawa’s knee and pulling it closer, spreading Oikawa’s legs  _ and  _ pulling his entire body slightly towards him as well. Oikawa yelps, looking up at him with wide eyes as Iwaizumi dips down, pressing his lips against the tip of Oikawa’s cock to wet it with saliva, feeling surprisingly eager to please him after all the shit Oikawa put him through last night. Oikawa reaches up, covering his mouth to muffle any sounds, and Iwaizumi smirks, reaching around both of Oikawa’s thighs with his arms, holding them down and spread. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he says, keeping eye contact with Oikawa before dipping down, forming an 'o' with his lips and taking Oikawa’s cock into his mouth.  


**Author's Note:**

> feel free to talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/notmykink) (priv acct since it's nsfw and just bc i wanna talk to ppl! so hmu!)


End file.
